


More Universal Than Life

by Cinaed



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-22
Updated: 2009-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:45:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's amazing, the impact of a single decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Universal Than Life

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go out to sheguards and perryvic for beta-reading this for me. The story was written for sweetcharityvox, for Jody, who requested Carson and Radek friendship, and a different outcome for "Sunday." Hope she enjoys this!

_Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives._ -A. Sachs

**  
**

Radek was about to say no when he saw the expression on Carson's face. It was a half-pleading, half-defeated look, as though Carson had already been turned down eleven times today and expected Radek's refusal to make it a nice even dozen. Mouth already opened and starting to shape his planned apology, instead what came out was a dry, "As long as you promise not to tell everyone of my lack of fishing skills." 

Carson beamed. "A deal," he said. "I'll see you in a half-hour then!" 

And then he was gone, leaving Radek to glance at the chessboard and make his final move, thinking regretfully of the other prizes he could have won today. "Checkmate," he said.

"Son of a _bitch_," Parson snarled. 

**  
**

Thirty minutes later, Radek was already regretting his decision. It had taken him most of the half-hour to find some clothes even remotely suitable to fish in, and judging by the small smirks and sympathetic looks people had been giving him on his way to the jumper bay, his outfit still wasn't quite right. Either that, or his dismay and disinterest in fishing was obvious on his face. 

Still, some of his gloominess eased at Carson's excited grin. Carson's smiles tended to be infectious, and this one was no exception as he grinned and said happily, "Sport of kings, Radek. Wait until you see the fish." He ushered Radek into the jumper, pointing out the fishing equipment he had ready for them and chattering away about the trout-like fish spotted in the mainland's rivers that were growing in size and apparent tastiness with each description.

"Has anyone caught and eaten one?" Radek asked as he helped to haul the gear into the back of the jumper.

Carson's smile faltered briefly, and then returned in full-force. "No, not precisely," he admitted. "But that's not the point of fishing, you see. The _point_ of fishing is--"

Radek resisted the urge to close his eyes and sigh, having been on the receiving end of far too many fishing philosophy lectures from his brother in law. He was pretty sure the man treated it as a substitute religion and had noticed the obsession seemed to be common to a lot of anglers. This was going to be a very long day. 

"--and Rodney and I have a bet going on what the fish will taste like," Carson concluded. 

Radek blinked at that, and then began to smile. Then again, perhaps this day would not be quite so terrible after all. "Carson," he said in a chiding tone, watching his friend sit in the jumper's pilot seat. When Carson looked up at him, he folded his arms against his chest and assumed a mock-annoyed look. "Do you mean to tell me that you and Rodney have been betting behind my back?" 

After a second, Carson's mouth twitched into an amused smile. "Aye, well Rodney bet me a day's worth of coffee that the fish'll taste like chicken," he said. "A _Rodney's_ day worth no less."

"Then I will bet a day's worth of coffee that it doesn't," Radek said, and listened to Carson's chuckling as he strapped himself into the passenger seat and braced himself for flight.

**  
**

Radek eyed the rippling river doubtfully, feeling ridiculous in his boots, slightly floppy hat, and vest even though only Carson was around to laugh at him (which he wouldn't, since he was wearing the same gear). Right now in the Czech Republic, the rivers would be warm, their waters teeming with carp and other fish that would practically throw themselves on the hook. In fact, his brother-in-law was probably fishing away his Sunday afternoon a galaxy away from here. 

Carson was already knee-deep in the river, scanning his surroundings and testing the weight of his fishing rod in his grip. He hadn't winced as he'd stepped off the bank into the shallows, so perhaps here too the rivers were warm. 

Radek took a cautious step into the river, and immediately jumped back out with a yelp. The water wasn't warm or even tepid-- it was ice-cold, at a temperature that made one's toes go instantly numb and bones ache even through water-proof boots. When he stumbled in his haste to get back onto the shore, he heard Carson asking what was wrong. "It is _cold_," he answered through gritted teeth, tone half-accusing.

Carson looked sympathetic, though his eyes crinkled at the corners and betrayed his amusement. "Is it?" he said innocently. "It's no colder than Scotland." 

Radek glared. "But you've said that Scotland is always freezing!" 

"Aye," Carson said, and now he was definitely trying not to laugh at Radek. "I suppose it is a wee bit cold, now that you mention it. Even brisk." He didn't move from the river, apparently immune to the frigid water. "I suppose you can stay on the bank," he added cheerfully. "Might not catch as many fish, though."

"I'll take my chances," Radek muttered. looking for a positon on the bank. He was going to get revenge on Carson for this, somehow. And on Rodney for probably suggesting Radek as a suitable sacrifice while he spent time with Katie. Shaking his feet and hoping that the feeling in his toes would return soon, he set down his tackle and rod and looked around. At least it was a nice day, with only a few clouds in an otherwise blue sky and a cool wind that didn't raise goose bumps but instead simply kept the sun from being too hot. The sun bounced off the water and did make for a pleasant area and it certainly was a change from being stuck in one of the labs all day and night. "Do we even know what space trout eat?"

"I'm sure we'll figure it out," Carson said, expression serene. He had something that looked suspiciously like a plastic (not to mention purple) worm in his hand, and Radek watched as Carson expertly attached the lure to the hook. Then, as the sunlight caught the line and made it gleam, Carson shifted his weight and cast the line into the slow, steady waters up-river. Even with his lack of talent or interest, Radek knew it was a good cast. He'd picked up enough, unwillingly, from his brother-in-law to know skill when he saw it. 

Then Radek shrugged to himself. At least Carson might have a chance at catching this "space trout" after all. He started to bait his own hook, muttering a low curse that the river hopefully drowned out as he fumbled with the lure, nearly stabbing himself in the finger. Well, at least it wasn't a _real_ purple worm in his hand. "Remember," he said, drawing Carson's gaze briefly to him, "you promised not to tell anyone about how terrible I am at fishing."

"Of course, but I'm certain you're not...." Carson trailed off, biting hard on his lower lip as Radek sighed and began attempting to cast. 

He seemed to have improved since one of his colleagues at Masaryk University had dragged him fishing. It only took him four times to properly cast his line, and only one of them got tangled in a tree behind him.

**  
**

A few hours later, Carson had caught five trout, ranging from medium sized to enormous. Apparently space trout were larger than trout back on Earth, at least if Radek went by Carson's delighted expression and remarks. Radek had caught one. In all honesty, he was rather proud of the single trout he'd caught-- at least he wouldn't be returning to the city empty-handed. There was just one thing that was worrying him. "Please tell me we are going to let some Marines clean the fish for us," he said, and then sighed in relief at Carson's nod.

"We'll be keeping these beauties alive, at least for the time being. Need to run some tests on them, see if we can even eat them."

"And make certain they aren't sentient," Radek remarked dryly, and was rewarded by Carson's slight wince.

"That too." 

After Carson had put the last of the trout into the aquarium-like container he'd brought along, Radek took a moment to study the fish which might soon grace the plates of the Atlantis commissary. They were certainly similar to the trout he remembered from Earth, with glistening silver scales that reflected various blues and pinks in the light. His fish was one of the smaller ones, but nevertheless he smiled a little proudly to himself. He'd like to have seen Rodney catch a fish. 

Then again, perhaps not. No doubt Rodney would have complained and frightened all the trout away. 

"So," Carson said, apparently willing to talk now that the fishing was over, "did you want to sit and enjoy the sun for a bit longer, or head back?" 

Radek tilted his head, looking up into the cloudless sky and feeling the slightest puff of air against his skin as the faint wind brushed past him. The day had stayed nice, the sun pleasantly warm on his shoulders and the back of his neck as he fished and offered a few quiet conversations with Carson as the hours had gone by. Perhaps it might be nice just to relax by the river for a while. "I would like to stay for a little longer," he said, then frowned, rubbing at the tip of his nose, which felt warmer than the rest of his face. "Though I should probably put some more sunscreen on." 

"I have a container in the jumper," Carson said. He too turned his face towards the sky, closing his eyes and letting out a happy sigh. "I've missed this," he admitted after a moment, even as he opened his eyes and began a slow, meandering walk towards the clearing where they'd left the jumper. "My brothers and I went fishing practically every chance we could. My oldest brother, Ian, he's a champion angler. You should see the trout he's got mounted on his wall. A record-breaker." 

"Impressive," Radek said, hoping he sounded enthusiastic. After all, Carson's voice had softened with pride and even a bit of nostalgia for a moment. He fell into step beside Carson, glancing back to make certain the aquarium was secure. It would be quite a waste of a day if an animal came along and stole the trout while they were in search of sunscreen, after all. "So fishing is a family tradition? My brother-in-law, he loves to fish. Demands I go with him to a lake every time I visit. In her last letter, my sister told me he is now teaching Miklos how to fish." 

Carson shrugged. "I suppose you could call it a family tradition. Or just something we bond over." 

"Perhaps someday you should visit the Czech Republic," Radek suggested. "We have plenty of grayling and trout in our rivers. In fact, West Bohemia is known for its fly fishing rivers-- Otava, Strela, Unlava, Mze...." He trailed off as he noticed Carson's twitching lips. "What?"

"For someone who tried very hard not to die of boredom this entire time, you know quite a bit about fishing," Carson said, and Radek felt his face warm from something other than the sun.

"Yes, well, the way Davek talks, you would have to be deaf not to remember _some_ of the things he says," he muttered. This time he ignored Carson's smile. 

They emerged from the small patch of woods and came into the clearing, the jumper materializing as Carson approached. Radek brushed away the brief pang of envy with the ease of years of practice. Someday, perhaps, Carson would make the gene one hundred percent workable for all humans; in the meantime, Radek could content himself with knowing the ins and outs of Atlantis better than most of the gene-users. 

It wasn't until the door opened that the sound reached his ears. He felt his stomach drop to his feet even before he realized that it was an alarm. "What is it?" he asked as Carson frowned and walked quickly into the jumper.

"I don't know. Something urgent from Atlantis, I think," Carson said, frowning at the controls, and then pressed something. Immediately a voice Radek recognized as Sergeant Campbell's filled the jumper, hoarse and a little anxious. "Doctor Beckett, Doctor Zelenka, please respond. Doctor Beckett, you are needed back at Atlantis immediately. Doctor Beckett, Doctor Zelenka, please--"

"We are here," Radek said, immediately sitting down and strapping into the passenger seat. A second later, Carson followed suit. "What is going on?" 

There was a pause. Such a long one, in fact, that Radek was about to repeat his question when the sergeant said, "There's been...perhaps I should get Doctor McKay, he knows the specifics, but...." The sergeant faltered, and Radek began to get a very bad feeling, one that clenched his hands into fists and sent an uneasy shudder down his spine. This was going to be bad news. "There were, uh, explosions. We've got seven dead, five injured, with two in critical condition."

"Christ," Carson breathed, color leeching from his face.

"Who?" Radek demanded, even as the jumper lurched awkwardly into flight, his voice wobbling as his breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes against the sudden sight of the sky, and perhaps to shield himself from Carson's expression as Campbell grimly recited the list of names. 

"The dead are Sergeants Anderson and Maes, Lieutenant Ivanov, and Doctors McPherson, Hummel, Donaldson, and Hewston."

Radek winced, each person's face flickering through his mind for a moment. Seven in one day. He cannot imagine what happened, especially on a day that was meant for relaxation and fun. An attack of some kind? Some sort of terrible malfunction in the system? They were still examining what the Ancients had done during their brief takeover of the city, perhaps they had-- 

"And the injured?" Carson asked, voice low and urgent. Radek didn't dare look at him and see the grief sharpening his features and darkening the blue of his eyes, not when guilt was already roiling his own stomach and tightening his shoulders. Seven dead, while Carson and Radek had been oblivious, fishing on the mainland. If they had been there, could they have helped, prevented so many deaths?

Campbell answered, sounding weary, and Radek could picture his face as well, that normally cheerful visage drawn and strained. "Doctors Zusak and David, and Major Henderson. Doctor Montague and Ms. Emmagan are critical." 

Radek knew how to swear in seven different languages, but as always in times of stress, what tumbled from his lips was a snarled string of Czech profanity. "Is the situation under control?" he demanded. "Will there be any more explosions?"

"No," Campbell said quickly and firmly. "There's no longer any threat to Atlantis. We just...Doctor Beckett is needed. And Doctor McKay is asking for you as well, Doctor Zelenka."

"We'll be there soon," Carson said. His voice was toneless, and when Radek looked at him, all he could see on Carson's face was focus. Focus on getting them back to Atlantis as quickly as possible, on getting to his patients, on figuring out what the hell had happened during these past five hours. 

The clouds rushed by at a dizzying speed, and Radek closed his eyes again, trying not to picture the injured, or the dead. 

**  
**

Rodney was in the jumper bay, waiting for them when they landed. Even before Radek could read the expression on his face, he could see the tension in Rodney's shoulders, feel the anxiety radiating off him in waves. "It was an Ancient device," Rodney said without preamble. He was going for matter-of-fact, but didn't quite reach it, his voice strained with an emotion Radek couldn't quite define. Anger, perhaps, or grief, or even guilt. "Watson and Hewston turned it on yesterday and it apparently emitted some sort of radiation that caused...." 

He stopped, and it was only at Carson's quiet, "Caused what?" that Rodney cleared his throat and continued. 

"Explosive tumors." Radek felt a moment of utter disbelief-- _explosive tumors_? -- but then understanding and acceptance settled hard on his shoulders and pressed down on him with the weight of reality. This was Atlantis after all, a city which excelled at unique methods of death and destruction. "Watson and Hewston became walking bombs just waiting to go off." 

Carson nodded. The grief and urgency had faded from his features, replaced by a remote look, the expression of a doctor calculating what type of injuries he should expect from this sort of disaster. "I'll be in the infirmary," he said, and Radek watched him go, looking fairly ridiculous in his fishing gear but moving with a doctor's purpose towards his patients. 

Then Radek turned to Rodney. He felt some of the tension leach from his own frame, now that he was here, back home, where he can do something more than clutch at his seat and silently urge the jumper to go faster. "Campbell said you needed me." 

Rodney frowned. "I wouldn't say needed, but I thought I should consult someone else who knows Ancient tech well enough to-- did Campbell tell you who died?" Radek nodded. "I want someone else with an expert understanding of Ancient tech, and you and Donaldson are-- were...." Rodney shrugged, a sharp, almost angry gesture. "I thought you might have a suggestion on how to destroy the device safely." 

"_Destroy_?" The startled word escaped Radek's lips before he could stifle it. Still, destroy a piece of Ancient tech? Even with the device that had almost cost Rodney his life, they had studied it and then simply put it away, out of sight and out of mind, with stern warnings for everyone in the city not to venture near it. "Rodney, you are not saying--"

"It killed seven of our people!" Rodney yelled. His face was turning an alarming shade of red, his eyes narrowing to slits as he continued, voice getting louder with every syllable. "And five are injured and Teyla might _die_, and I am going to destroy that device, Radek, whether you help me or not, so just--" He apparently ran out of breath then, inhaling sharply, chest swelling with oxygen and angry words just waiting to be unleashed.

Radek smoothly cut in before Rodney could continue with his tirade. "You are upset, Rodney, and this is understandable." He thought of the seven men and women he would never see again, and resisted the urge to run a weary hand over his face. He tried to distance himself from the deaths, look at the situation analytically, the way Rodney would have if he'd been the one fishing with Carson and Radek the one listening to the cries of the injured and walking through the damaged corridors. "Extremely so. But if this device can create bombs, shouldn't we figure out a way to use it against the Wraith? If we could capture some, turn them into bombs, and release them back onto Wraith ships--"

"And maybe the device only works on humans," Rodney pointed out. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, as though he wanted to strike something. Perhaps even Radek. "And we'd just be putting our own people in even more danger, just on the off chance we can destroy a Wraith ship or two." 

"Maybe," Radek acknowledged. "But we ought to study the device anyway, Rodney." He didn't say that the seven's deaths might not seem so pointless if they helped to take down some Wraith. He didn't think Rodney would react well to the words, and besides, that sentiment made Radek sick and furious with the universe. The seven's deaths were pointless, as all deaths were. Pointless and terrible. "Afterwards, we can destroy it. But now, we must examine it, see if we can--" 

"I told Hummel to leave Watson," Rodney said, as though Radek hadn't spoken. He smiled, bitterly, but his wide eyes gazed through Radek as though Radek wasn't there, and his voice was distant. "I said that Watson was going to die anyway, to just get everyone else away safely, and Hummel went ahead and got the tumor out of him, and got blown up trying to get the tumor away. Him and Ivanov and Maes. But Watson's alive, and three good people took his place instead, and I keep thinking that Hummel should have listened to me, Radek, he should have--"

"Rodney," Radek said, and Rodney stopped. Radek wanted to do something to take that guilt from Rodney's eyes, but all that fell from his lips were words that probably did no good. "It is not your fault. Hummel was a doctor. He would never have left Watson alone to die. Any doctor would have done the same thing." _Carson_ would have done the same, and Radek felt ill at the thought, stomach twisting and roiling until he had to squeeze his eyes shut and take a few steadying breaths to keep from gagging. He did not want nightmares of Carson bending over Watson, Carson cradling a tumor in his hands and being torn to shreds by an explosion. "You could not have known Watson and Hewston were a danger to others, could not have prevented this." 

Rodney didn't answer, just shook his head. "I'm going to recommend to Elizabeth and Sheppard that we destroy the device."

"That is your choice," Radek said quietly, and followed Rodney from the jumper bay. It was only then that he realized they had left behind the aquarium filled with trout back on the mainland. His steps briefly faltered, and then he shook his head and continued after Rodney. What did trout matter, at a time like this? 

**  
**

Rodney paced Elizabeth's office like it was a prison he longed to escape from. Watching him, Elizabeth, Ronon, and Sheppard looked troubled. Carson, fresh from the infirmary, just looked tired, though there had been relief in his voice when he'd told them that Teyla and Montague should pull through. 

"I say we destroy it," Rodney said tightly, stopping briefly in front of Elizabeth's desk before resuming his frenzied pacing. 

"And I say we might find a use for it," Radek said, folding his arms against his chest and fighting back the headache that has settled right between his eyes. He wanted to sit Rodney down, talk sense into him until the guilt of those seven deaths no longer shadowed his friend's eyes, but instead he had to sit here, playing Rodney's counterpart and the heartless scientist. "We have captured Wraith before. We can again, see if we could--"

"If, if, if," Rodney snapped. "I'm not putting more of my people in harm's way based on Radek's wishful thinking." 

"It would be a high risk," Elizabeth said quietly. 

Sheppard added, a hint of dry sarcasm in his voice, "And none of our other attempts at capturing Wraith and experimenting on them have gone particularly well." 

Carson winced. The lines of strain deepened around his eyes and mouth, and Radek knew he was thinking of Hoff and of Michael. "Perhaps we _should_ destroy it," Carson said, and offered Radek an almost apologetic look, as though Radek might snap 'Et tu?' at him for siding with the others. 

Looking at the weariness on his companions' faces, the determined scowl on Rodney's lips, Radek slumped in his chair. He did not want to fight everyone. He wanted to go to the infirmary, see Teyla for himself, and then keep an eye on both Carson and Rodney, make sure they didn't overexert themselves in the aftermath, picking up the pieces of the infirmary and the science division. "Fine," he said, and the word came out bleak. He held up his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Now we can at least tell IOA we discussed it and decided it was too impractical and dangerous to keep, when they decide we should have kept the device and yell at us." 

Ronon snorted at that. Then he got to his feet in a quick, fluid gesture. "I'm going back to the infirmary, check on Teyla." He nodded at them, and left, the door shutting quietly behind him. 

Sheppard got to his feet as well. "I better go too." His expression darkened as he added, "Got some letters to write." Then he clapped a hand on Rodney's shoulder, hard enough to make Rodney wince and glare at him. "Let me know when you're going to destroy it. I want to see that thing explode."

"Will do," Rodney muttered. Then he turned to Radek and raised an eyebrow. "Well, now that you've come to your senses, come help me figure out a way to destroy the damn thing." 

"Where is the device?" Radek asked, and nodded at Rodney's directions. He had been scheduled to study that area as well, later next week. "I'll meet you there." 

"I'd best get back to the infirmary," Carson said, moving towards the door. He blinked as Radek fell into step beside him, and shot him a curious glance.

Radek ignored the questioning gleam in Carson's eyes. He waited until they were out in the corridor, making their way toward the infirmary, before he spoke. "Do not think I don't know that look on your face, Carson. I know...." But then he paused, the phrase fluttering out of reach just as he needed it. "I know survivor's guilt when I see it."

There was silence for a moment. Then, "If I'd been here--"

"If you'd been here, you might be dead instead of Hummel," Radek said, sharper than he meant. 

"Perhaps," Carson admitted. "But then, we don't really know that. Anything might have happened. Just look at Cole."

"Cole?" Radek repeated blankly. 

"Susan was supposed to be the doctor on duty today. Apparently she had a migraine, and so after the first explosion, when they were needing a surgeon for Teyla, Hummel stepped in on her behalf. If he hadn't, she'd have been the one operating on Watson, the one who--" Carson stopped. "It might not have been me," he said eventually. 

Radek stayed silent, fighting against the relief which tasted bittersweet on his tongue, relief that Carson had gone fishing instead of staying in the city. He thought of alternate universes, where they drowned that first day, where they died desperate and raging during the Wraith's assault on the city that first year, where Radek turned down Carson's offer to fish and had to listen to an explosion that tore Carson to pieces. God. So many small choices, so many disasters averted and created, built up over a lifetime. It hurt his head to think about it, so he didn't. 

There were other people in the hallway, looking varying shades of shell shocked and griefstricken, but Radek ignored them, matching Carson's quick tread and leaning his weight lightly against Carson, so that their shoulders and elbows bumped together. Carson was warm and alive against him. "It was not you," he said. "Let us leave it at that." 

"All right," Carson said.

They walked on toward the infirmary, where the scent of smoke and charred flesh still drifted through the air.


End file.
